Last Hope
by Joelle8
Summary: After Regulus Black is drowned by Inferi, in sheer desperation, Kreacher goes to his last hope to try to save his beloved master: Sirius Black. Rated T for slight language.


Last Hope

At first, Sirius Black had been sure it was a nightmare.

It made enough sense. He had gone to sleep just thirty minutes beforehand, and why else would he hear his dreaded ex-House Elf's raspy, croak of a voice calling his name in ever increasing desperation?

Alas, Sirius was forced to face the truth when he felt small, surprisingly forceful fists pound bruises into his back, the owner of the hands still screaming, "MASTER SIRIUS! _MASTER SIRIUS!_"

"Bloody hell, Kreacher, _get off_!" Sirius growled, sitting up and rubbing his aching back. The aged House Elf jumped off of the bed and onto the floor obediently; it seemed that, despite being disowned, Kreacher still had to obey Sirius. The thought almost made the young man smile; in fact, it would have, had the whole situation not confused him witless.

"Master Sirius! You must come! You must come now!" Kreacher wailed, agony seeping through his every features. In spite of his hatred towards the House Elf, Sirius couldn't help feeling pity for it. "Master Sirius must come! _Now_!"

"Kreacher, what's going on?" Sirius asked, staring straight into the creature's eyes.

"It's Master Regulus! Master Regulus needs help!" Kreacher sobbed, and Sirius felt his features harden at once. Of course, the only reason his old House Elf was here was for Regulus. _Dear_ Regulus. _Sweet _Regulus. _Perfect _Regulus. The favorite of the family, the one who always did exactly what everyone expected of him. The one everyone loved, no matter how many vases he broke or how many smart ass remarks he made. Things Sirius would have gotten beaten for.

"And why would I care?" Sirius snapped coldly.

"Master Regulus is your _brother_! He-"

"He's _not _my brother," Sirius glared the House Elf into silence. "Not anymore. He hasn't been since the day he hung up a news article about the _oh-so-wonderful_ Lord Voldemort in his bedroom."

"Master Sirius _dares _say his name!" Kreacher gasped. "Mistress always says we mustn't say the name-"

"Since when have _I _ever cared about what your precious Mistress ever said?" Sirius snorted. "Think back, you miserable excuse for a House Elf. I've _never _cared about what she said."

"But- but Master Regulus!" Kreacher spluttered, tears trailing down his wrinkled cheeks. "Masters were friends once! Kreacher remembers! Masters Sirius and Regulus used to run together in the garden! Masters were the best of friends!"

"_Were_, Kreacher," Sirius replied. "We _were _the best of friends. He's changed since then, and so have I. I don't have any sort of desire to associate with one of Voldemort's pathetic cronies."

"Master Regulus needs help!" Kreacher went on screeching. "Master Sirius _must _help! He must!"

"If your darling Regulus needs help so desperately, go to your Mistress!" Sirius shouted to the House Elf, standing up to his full height. "_She _actually cares! _She _would do something to help her _wonderful _son!"

"Kreacher cannot tell Mistress!" the House Elf sobbed. "Master Regulus forbade him! Kreacher was forbidden to tell Mistress Walburga or Master Orion! Master Sirius is Kreacher's last hope!"

"Well, that's too bloody bad, now isn't it?" Sirius' voice was stone cold, his gaze withering. "I don't care about that bastard."

Kreacher still seemed to have not received the message. "Master Sirius has to come! He _has _to! Master Sirius cannot let his brother die!"

Sirius could take it no longer. "REGULUS BLACK IS NOT MY BROTHER!" he roared. "MY BROTHERS ARE JAMES POTTER, REMUS LUPIN, AND PETER PETTIGREW! _NOT _REGULUS SODDING BLACK!"

"YOU _ARE _BROTHERS, YOU _ARE_!" Kreacher screamed right back at Sirius. "_MASTER REGULUS NEEDS HELP! MASTER SIRIUS NEEDS TO HELP HIS BROTHER!_"

"GO GET ONE OF HIS BLOODY DEATH EATER PALS, THEN!" Sirius yelled. "THEY'D CARED A FAT LOT MORE THAN I DO!"

"Kreacher- Kreacher cannot!" the House Elf lowered the volume of his voice, and hissed, as if saying something of the utmost secrecy and horror, "_Master Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord!_"

Before Sirius could say anything to that, Kreacher was beating himself with the lamp on Sirius' bedside table, scolding himself, "BAD Kreacher! Bad, bad, bad!"

"Kreacher!" Sirius exclaimed. "Stop beating yourself up and put the lamp back!"

The old House Elf, though clearly reluctant, did as he was told and faced Sirius. Kreacher's wrinkled skin was covered with black and blue bruises, and his eyes were red from rapidly flowing tears. Sirius almost softened, then reminded himself of that saying Moody was all too fond of: _Constant vigilance_. He hardened again.

"Now, Kreacher," he began, "what do you mean, Regulus betrayed Voldemort?"

"Kreacher- Kreacher cannot tell," the withered creature blubbered. "Master Regulus told him not to tell! He- he made Kreacher _swear _not to tell!"

Sirius sighed in exasperation, when suddenly, he noticed something: a golden locket, clutched tightly in Kreacher's fist. He frowned in confusion. "What's that in your hand?"

Kreacher silently unwound his hand, displaying the locket for Sirius to see. It was obviously very old, and yet, still in mint condition, as evidenced by the way it gleamed in the little light that wafted through the windows of Sirius' bedroom. There was a snakelike "S" in sparkling emeralds on the front of the locket; Sirius was willing to bet his entire fortune that it had something or other to do with Salazar Slytherin. Despite this, however, even Sirius had to admit that the locket had a sort of entrancing, exotic beauty that drew eyes- including his own- to it.

"Master Regulus needs your help!" Kreacher, yet again, stated his reason for paying a visit to Sirius so late in the night. "Master Sirius cannot let Master Regulus die!"

Sirius' thoughts drifted away from the locket at this comment. "Oh, yes, Master Sirius can," he replied harshly. "If Regulus decided to go and get cold feet, he should've known that he'd get killed for it! Hell, he shouldn't have joined the bloody Death Eaters in the first place! Then again," he paused, faking thoughtfulness, "he was never the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Master Sirius is _wrong_!" Kreacher cried, outraged. "Master Regulus is _smart _and _brave _and _needs Master Sirius' help_!"

"I already told you, Kreacher, _I'm not going to help you_!" Sirius spoke angrily. "Sweet Merlin, what is it going to take to get that through your head?"

To this, Kreacher had no reply at first. Then, after a painfully long minute that seemed more like an hour, he croaked, "Kreacher knew that Master Sirius was a bad boy. But Kreacher did not know that Master Sirius was heartless as well."

For some reason, this blew Sirius away. No matter how much Kreacher had always hated him, _never _had the House Elf insulted him so deliberately. "I-"

"Master Sirius was always loyal. Master Regulus looked up to him for that. They were the best of brothers, the best of friends. Blood is thicker than water, Master Sirius," Kreacher continued, his voice still that low rasp. "Kreacher hopes that Master Sirius enjoys knowing his brother-"

"He's _not _my brother!"

"Blood is thicker than water, Master Sirius," Kreacher repeated. "Master Sirius was Master Regulus' last hope… Master Sirius failed him."

"It's not my fault if he went and got himself killed, now is it?" Sirius glared at the House Elf. "So in no way did I fail him!" For some strange reason, it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Kreacher.

The House Elf shook his head slowly, almost sadly. "Master Sirius could have saved him, but he did not. Master Regulus is dead now."

For whatever reason, hearing the fact said out loud- that Regulus was dead- plain as day unhinged Sirius. "Just- just _go home_, Kreacher! And _never _come back!" he ordered the House Elf loudly, hating the sudden wetness in his eyes.

And just like that, with one last glare and a snap of his fingers, Kreacher was gone.

Sirius refused to acknowledge the fact that a lone tear trickled down his cheek- twenty-year-old men did not cry, after all- as he lay back down in bed, his face in his pillow, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again that night, or for many nights to come.

* * *

_**Pretty random, but the idea struck me, so I just had to write it down. So, what do you think? Please review! I hope you liked it!**_

**_-Joelle8_**


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